Watching out the Window
by Son of Zeus0001
Summary: [One-Shot]On those late nights, when she hears him, she watches out the window...


**Watching Out the Window**

**Son of Zeus0001**

**Author's Note:** So, I've been thinking about Jazz's character a lot recently(because of the story I'm co-writing with Ani-DP-TT-PJ-H-Ben 10 Fan). It seemed like a huge oversight in the show that she was NEVER shown hanging out with her own friends. Then, well… a thought came to mind. And, this sprung from that thought… somehow. Basically what I'm saying is: Think of this as the story that was based on my thesis of why Jazz is who she is. But, who am I kidding, you guys probably skipped past this already.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Danny Phantom.

**DPDPDPDPDP**

She's woken from her fitful sleep by noises in the next room. Someone is getting up, moving around. She can hear footsteps scuffing across the carpet as he tries to be as quiet as he can. It isn't very quiet, but their rooms are far enough down the hall that their parents won't hear him. They won't. They'll just keep sleeping as their son leaves the house in the middle of the night… again.

The auburn-haired girl can hear the faintest thud as he stubs his toe on something he forgot to pick up, still half-asleep. The faint curse that proceeds the scraping of the window. She doesn't know why he always insists on opening the window when he can just walk right through it, but he does, and it comforts her to receive the warning.

Waiting, curled up under the covers with Bearbert Einstein. The fabric of her sheets is warm by now, her body heat trapped beneath the heavy covers. There's the usual surge of worry and fear and sadness and pity as she waits. She knows what her little brother does is important, needed even. She knows that, without him, Amity Park would fall in a matter of days. But, that doesn't stop the fear and worry. The pity. The possibility that he might not come back.

Then comes the other emotions, the ones that conflict so drastically with the others that the feeling is almost euphoric. The pride that swells in her heart, knowing what her brother is doing. Knowing that he's fighting, fighting for their survival. The – admittedly conflicted – sense of giddiness at knowing that she's one of the few that he trusts with his greatest secret. She knows that lying is bad. But, at the same time, knowing that she is one of the few who knows is almost intoxicating.

Her eyes blink several times, forcing back the tears as she clings to Bearbert just that much tighter. She desperately wants him to come back, to be safe. But she can do nothing now, not while he fights for their lives. While he fights to protect people that don't even like him, who don't even respect him.

For a moment, she's a child again. She remembers their parents constant obsession and crazy work hours. She remembers having to opt out of hanging out with her friends – the ones she had when she was younger – in order to watch over him. she remembers the turkey disaster when he was six and she was eight. She remembers the countless Christmases, buying a gift for her brother before getting home from school, just so that he wouldn't start crying while their parents argued over the existence of Santa Claus. She remembers his incurable curiosity, when he used to toddle around and get into everything, no matter how hard she tried to stop him.

The girl shakes her head and starts going over developmental theories, hoping to distract herself from her brother's absence. It doesn't work and she finds herself squeezing Bearbert again, remembering more from their childhood. The time she tried and failed to make mac and cheese when she was six. The time she'd gotten him to dress up in some nice clothes so she could practice dancing. The time he fell and bumped his head on the sidewalk, and their parents had been too busy to deal with it so she had to be the one that was there for him. She remembers. She remembers when he'd come up to her that one day after he'd gotten home, and asked her what coodies were.

She just lies there, remembering as he fights for them. As he fights to protect them all from something only he can hold at bay. And that's how it goes for some time. She can't distract herself, not really. Somewhere deep down she knows that, even if she could, it would be disrespectful. To try and think of something else while he uses himself as a shield to protect thousands of people? No, she couldn't do that.

So, she pushes off the covers, holding Bearbert tight against her chest. She gets out of bed and moves quietly over to her window. And she watches. She watches the sky, hoping, hoping desperately, to catch a glimpse of glowing green or radiant white or darkest black.

And she watches out the window…

**DPDPDPDPDP**

**Author's Note : **Thoughts?**  
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End file.
